A reading activity that lasted for most of the class ended like this.

The little wizards were disappointed, this kind of Defence Against the Dark Arts class was completely meaningless, it was just a waste of time, and losing a dog was better than Quirrell on the podium, at least he wouldn't stutter when he barked.

Even more painful than the students was Quirrell, who had been tormented by Rove, and who didn't know how to get out of class, his eyes were dizzy and his legs were shaking as he walked towards the office.

Scamander's kid was chattering, and he had been pulling him there to chat during class, about his travels in Albania, about how Quirrell had cured the Dark Lord in a fancy way......

Quirrell did curse!

He admitted!

At that time, he had not yet entered the Albanian forest, let alone met the Dark Lord, but he met the famous Mr. Scamander and his grandson Rove......

Rove had been pestering himself to listen to the stories of the African savannah, and he was looking at himself with adoration...... Quirrell was a little fluttering, drank some more wine brought by Rove, and pointed out the country with the strength of the wine, and "lightly" insulted the Dark Lord "a few words".

If it comes to this, it's just that, but I entered the Albanian forest and really ran into the Dark Lord......

Things have come to this point, there is still room for maneuver, anyway, it has been a long time, but this kid who is going to Ilvermorny came to Hogwarts, and he also helped him forcibly start a wave of memory killing......

Rol Scamander, you talk so much, do you have an autistic grandpa who knows?!

Quirrell was really hard to imagine, the Dark Lord in the back of his head would have a wonderful expression when he heard those words, he wanted to die anyway!

I used to pour it when I was drunk, why didn't I pour it that night, and I said so much nonsense...... Drinking is a mistake!

Quirrell's mind was clouded, and he walked towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts office alone, and he didn't have time to care about the constant students pointing at him in the hallway.

Quirrell stumbled into the office, he trembled and opened the door, and when it closed,

Locked!

Quirrell stood in front of a mirror, undoing the thick scarf from his head little by little, revealing a bare head.

At the back of his head was a face as white as chalk, with closed eyes and two long, snake-like nostrils underneath.

Quirrell untied his scarf and began to take off his voluminous robes, and he stripped off his entire body and knelt naked in the center of the office.

His body was so thin that his ribs were visible, and his back was even more shocking, with large scars.

Quirrell raised his wand, and one end of the wand conjured up a slender leather whip with sharp metal barbed spines.

Quirrell picked up the whip, gritted his teeth, and whipped his back hard, and his skin, which was about to grow, became bloody again.

He twitched to the ground, let out a terrible scream, and shouted reverently:

"Master, forgive me for my ignorance, forgive me for once verbally offending you.

At that time, I was just a confused wizard in the world, and it was you who allowed me to find my purpose and direction......

I'm guilty,

I repent,

I beg you to be merciful to me......"

Quirrell thrashed himself, but the face on the back of his head never opened his eyes, allowing him to lash him.

The whole office was filled with whiplash and Quirrell's weeping and prayers.

After a long time, the familiar voice finally sounded: "Well, of course I forgive you, my most loyal servant. ”

The voice was cold and piercing, but it seemed heavenly to Quirrell's ears, and he breathed a sigh of relief, and lay on the ground and wept bitterly, and murmured:

"Thank you, host, for your kindness."

Voldemort's blood-red eyes narrowed, if it had been before, he would have only rewarded an "Arvada Claimant......

A servant dares to scold him, deceive the heavens!

But the Dark Lord had no one else available now but Quirrell, and he didn't want to go back to the deep forest and lurk in the shadows for another ten years!

I can only choose to forgive!!

"Scamander met you in Albania?" Voldemort asked.

"Yes, master, I didn't expect him to come to Hogwarts and kill him?" Quirrell asked.

"Idiot! Killing someone right under Dumbledore's nose, you think he'll not find you? Voldemort screamed:

"Your break-into the Gringotts vault is enough for him to be vigilant, and if he kills again, he will not have a chance to steal the Philosopher's Stone again."

"So what to do?"

"It's time to plan for it." Voldemort narrowed his eyes and said with a gloomy face:

"If Dumbledore knew you had been to Albania and you didn't mention it to him, he would have been suspicious of you."

"My strength is still too weak, and you alone are not enough to deal with the current situation." Voldemort's eyes were full of murder, and he whispered, "I must summon another of my minions." ”

Quirrell knelt on the ground, his whole body trembling like chaff, and said, "Is it Snape?" You used to be your servant, right here at Hogwarts......"

"No!" Voldemort's uncertain face, showing a sarcastic expression, he sneered: "

"On the night I lost my power, Snape defected to Dumbledore and became a professor at Hogwarts, living in peace for ten years without looking for his master again.

The pinnacle produces hypocritical advocates, and the twilight witnesses true servants...... I can't believe he's still my man......"

"And who are you asking for help?"

Voldemort whispered in Quirrell's ear, and Quirrell's whole body trembled with excitement.

"With that guy, we'll be successful, master!"

"Do you really think so?" Voldemort asked.

"Yes, the host ......"

Voldemort retracted his expression, his eyes revealing the cruelty of his cold nature, and he said angrily:

"Hurry up and throw this thought into the Albanian forest, have you forgotten the defeat of Gringotts?

I'm telling you, if you think you're going to make another mistake and I'm going to make you comfortable being a professor here, that's weird! ”

"Master, I won't let you down again......" Quirrell cried, like a little daughter-in-law who had made a mistake, with a look of grievance.

"Don't show this disgusting face, I scolded you today for your own good, I scolded you to see if you still have something to use." Voldemort's tone became more and more harsh:

"Wait until I don't lose my temper one day, and that's enough for you to see."

Quirrell just kowtowed.

"How's the herb?"

"I've gotten a lot of money from the Forbidden Forest, and I'll soon be able to steal herbs, and then I'll be able to steal the Philosopher's Stone, and I'll be able to make a potion that will bring you back to life." Quirrell said with a look of trepidation.

"Well, and unicorn blood!" Voldemort narrowed his eyes and said, "I need to regain some strength, I've been going to the Forbidden Forest to catch a few recently." ”

"Yes, master!"

Voldemort closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep again, in this state, he basically couldn't do much, and he could only feel what was happening outside.

Quirrell struggled to his feet, and he walked over to a small pot of white fresh and gently wiped the blood off his back with white fresh, observing the way the blood swirled in the water.

After a moment, he looked in the mirror, one in front of him and the other in the back, allowing him to see the Dark Lord's eyes closed.

The terrifying, noseless face caused a presumptuous urge between Quirrell's two strands.

This blasphemous thought sent chills down Quirrell's side, and he picked up his belt and stabbed the sharp metal barb into the flesh.

Pain suppresses desire.

Quirrell's muscles instinctively contracted as the barbs of the whip pierced deeper, and he exhaled slowly, savoring the satisfaction of the pain.

Drying the wound, the man put on his robe again, wrapped his scarf around his head, and he returned to his cowardly, stammering Quirrell.

……

……

(Thanks to the "Book Friends 20220714210653410" boss for the tip.) ）